MasukScarlettThe morning light in Willow Creek felt like a spotlight on a stage I wasn’t ready to perform on. After the whirlwind of the previous night—the suffocating proximity of Elijah and the strategic elegance of Derek’s gifts—I needed a distraction.And my recent text message from my gallery manager Julian Vale, provided that.I pressed the call button and waited for him to answer, he did on the third ring.“Good morning, ma’am. Lovely night?” He asks, polite as usual.Yes, Julian. Thank you. Your message says Mr Nakamura is interested in the entire resilience series piece?”“Yes ma’am. He’s your 10:00 am for today. He’s flying in from London.” “Alright then. I’m not too far from you. I should be there before the meeting. Is there anything else I should know?”“Nothing else just that he wants an in person session and walk through.”“That’s fine. I can do that seeing as he’s buying a really expensive piece.” Mr Nakamura was one of my loyal and favorite customers, He and his wife Nos
Scarlett The night air of Willow Creek usually felt like a homecoming, but as I marched away from the restaurant, it felt like a cage. My heels struck the pavement with the rhythm of a war drum. Behind me, the heavy, rhythmic stride of Elijah Griffin followed—a sound I used to find comforting, but now felt like the ticking of a time bomb."Scarlett, stop. Just—stop walking for one second."I didn't stop. I reached the curb just as his sleek, silver Maybach purred to a halt in front of us. His driver, a man who had seen more of our marital drama than any therapist, hopped out to open the door."Get in," Elijah commanded. It wasn't a request. It was the tone he used in boardrooms to swallow competitors whole."I’m not going anywhere with you," I said, my voice vibrating with a decade’s worth of suppressed rage. "I have a car coming.""I canceled it," he said flatly. "Get in the car, Scarlett. We are not doing this on a public sidewalk where Derek Windsor can watch from the window li
Scarlett The car Derek sent, arrives exactly at six.Not six-oh-five.Not six-ten.Six on the dot.The driver steps out in a neat black suit and opens the back door like I’m someone important, like I’m used to this kind of treatment, like this is normal.It isn’t.I stand on the hotel steps for a second longer than necessary, smoothing my dress down my hips, silently debating turning around and going back inside.This is ridiculous.It’s just dinner.Not a proposal. Not a relationship. Not anything permanent.Just one evening.Closure, if anything.Proof that I can sit across from a man and not feel like I’m betraying ghosts.Still… Derek’s voice from last night replays in my head.Soft. Warm. Thoughtful.I’ll pick a place you’ll actually like. Nothing loud. Somewhere you can breathe. I remember you mentioned in a meeting about how much hate crowded restaurants.I never told him that.He just… noticed.And that almost made me cancel.Because the way he sounded—careful, considerate
“Mommy, look!”Carter’s voice bursts through the phone speaker so loudly I have to pull it away from my ear.“I’m looking, baby,” I laugh. “But you have to turn the camera around first.”The screen flips upside down, then sideways, then finally settles on my son’s grinning face. His curls are messy, cheeks flushed pink from running around.Behind him, Dara sighs dramatically. “He’s had sugar, Scarlett. I blame you.”“I did not give him sugar.”“You’re the one who made and stored a bunch of cookies.”“Those were educational cookies,” I argue. “They’re shaped like dinosaurs.”Carter shoves something into the camera. “Auntie Dara bought me ice cream too!”“Dara,” I groan.She laughs. “What? He gave me those big eyes. I’m weak.”“You’re spoiling him.”“And you love me for it.”I smile softly. “I really do.”Carter’s voice drops to a whisper. “Mommy, can we buy the red robot when you come back?”“The big one?”He nods excitedly.“We’ll see,” I tease. “Only if you finish your vegetables ton
ElijahI don’t sleep that night.Even with a private care nurse stationed outside my mother’s room and two more security men patrolling the house, my mind refuses to rest. Every time I close my eyes, I see Scarlett’s face from the conference hall—composed, distant, untouched by whatever storm had been raging inside me.By morning, I’ve arranged everything.The nurse is vetted, discreet, professional. My mother barely stirs as I explain that I need to return to the city for business. She murmurs something incoherent, fingers clutching the bedsheet like it’s an anchor. Guilt claws at my chest, but I push it aside. If I don’t finish this—if I don’t get answers—I’ll never breathe properly again.“She’s stable and asleep now, sir. I’ll make sure to check up on her after few hours. You have nothing to worry about.” The nurse assures me as she clears up my mother’s bedside.“Thank you, Tina.” I mutter tiredly.This last couple of days - the week itself has been exhausting, but there’s so muc
Scarlett I watch Elijah rush out of the building like the floor beneath him is on fire.His phone is pressed to his ear, his stride long and urgent, his expression unreadable except for the tightness in his jaw. For a brief, ridiculous second, my feet itch to move. My mouth almost opens to ask him.Are you okay?The thought startles me.I clamp down on it just as quickly.It isn’t my place to ask anymore. It hasn’t been for more than two years.Whatever storm is chasing Elijah Griffin now belongs to someone else—his wife, his family, his life. Not me.I turn away, smoothing invisible creases from my blazer, when Derek steps into my line of sight with an easy smile.“Looks like your… acquaintance left in a hurry,” he says lightly.“Seems so,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral.He studies me for a second longer than necessary. “You okay? That meeting took a strange turn.”“I’m fine,” I say. “You look-“I cut him off immediately. Then, softer, polite. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to







